


Watch Where You Step On A Winter's Walk

by storyplease



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Original work - Freeform, farting dog, gay meet cute, meddlesome brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: Gay man with annoying brother falls through hole in the universe created by another unrelated annoying brother.  Meets cute...alternate human.  The dog farts, of course.  What a winter walk to remember.





	Watch Where You Step On A Winter's Walk

I can’t tell you exactly when I slipped through a hole in my world and stumbled out into another.  Turns out that other versions of the world have very similar parks with gravel walkways that feature incredibly trippable rocks.  I mean, honestly, I don’t even consider myself a clumsy person, and I think I may have slid forward and nearly fallen on my face at least three times. The only reason I was even out in this stupid, unfamiliar park in the stupid wintery cold in the stupid first place was because I was visiting my parents for the holidays. Now, let me say that there are unintended drawbacks to no longer working in retail and therefore being asked to work on said holidays to get out of having awkward Conversations about What You Are Planning To Do With Your Life Now That You Have A Serious Job and having to walk a fat, constantly farting dog of indiscernible origin while he decides to simultaneously take forever to find the perfect place to poop and that walking is for  _ other _ dogs.  By the time I noticed that it was getting dark awfully fast and there was a distinct lack of lamp posts, Buford was lying stubbornly in the gravel with his paws up in the air and a particularly stupid look on his droopy, grizzled face.

 

It’s not that I hate dogs. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression here.  The problem is that, in order for me to explain the disdain I have for the dog, I must also explain the disdain I have for my younger brother, Arven.  Yes, my parents decided to name him Arven. Still, it does not excuse his penchant for making incredibly costly decisions and then dropping them whenever it gets difficult. Much like college. Or his new, $20,000 electric scooter, which our parents were left paying off his loan because they stupidly cosigned for it.  Or the dog. Buford.  Arven was so very proud of himself for taking in a rescue dog that “nobody else wanted.”  That is, until it stopped helping him score with the ladies and the dog became something that he didn’t want either.  So, to the parents it went.

 

And, of course, as the eldest and the most responsible, it fell to me to walk the damned dog when my mother’s knee began acting up due to the cold and my father’s back was aching awfully as well.  I was sitting around eating far too much chocolate for my own good, anyway.  I needed the walk. That’s what I told them, and that’s what I told myself as well.

 

Still, I hated the cold. I hated the gravel. And Buford's gaseous emissions were beginning to make me wonder if he might be useful to the chemical warfare section of the US armed forces.

 

But then, I noticed the lack of lamp posts, as I said earlier, and I began hearing things shifting in the darkness that were far too large for the average suburban neighborhood squirrels and crows.  Something made a noise that sounded like a snuffling bellow, and even Buford was instantly on his feet and cowering between my legs as though that would do either of us any good.  

 

“Are you lost?”  I nearly screamed at the sound of the oddly-accented  voice behind me and whirled around so quickly that I nearly tripped on Buford's leash and keeled over. A figure stood in the twilight, face obscured by the shadow of the trees.

 

“Um,” I said, like an idiot. “Maybe? My parents just moved last year, so I’m not too familiar with the area. It’s easy to get turned around.”

 

“I’ll help you get back. Don’t worry.”  I still couldn’t place his accent. It reminded me a bit of an Irish lilt, but certain parts of the words he used were stressed at the wrong syllable.

 

“Thanks, I really apprecia—” As he came closer, I went silent and my pulse began to race. Buford was shaking against my leg so badly that I thought he was having a seizure.

 

The young man before me seemed to be around my age- maybe a bit older, but he was clean-shaven, which made him seem a bit more youthful.  He had almost unearthly smooth skin, which shone a slightly greenish tint in the dying sunlight.  His eyes seemed a bit wider set than I was used to.  But it was his hair that I stared at most.  Dark green vines, dotted with pale, pink flowers were woven into braids down the back of his head. His braided vine-hair reached the small of his back, and I could tell by the nearly sheer material he wore wrapped around his body that he obviously didn’t feel the cold the same way that I did.  Two long, pointed ear tips poked out of his hair on either side of his head, which I might have made a dorky Lord of the Rings joke about being a “four-ears,” but then he smiled.

 

His teeth were serrated, like a shark’s.

 

I backed away, feeling like a coward. This was too much, even for me.     
  


“Please don’t freak out!” He sounded earnest, but I wasn’t exactly sure if earnest voices meant the same thing here, wherever  _ here _ was.

 

“I might find it a bit less difficult to freak out if you didn’t look like you were capable of going all  _ Jaws _ on me,” I joked. What can I say? Fatalistic humor is my schtick, even in a terrifying situation.

 

“I could say the same for you and your weird, smooth teeth.  And your...needle-like hair.  It’s creepy.”

 

“Uh...ok,” I replied. He had a point, actually.  As weird as he appeared to me, I’m sure I looked just as weird to him.

 

“My name is Myonar,” he said, sticking out his elbow.  I regarded it with a confused expression and he withdrew it with a shrug. “My stupid brother tore a hole in space-time continuum yesterday, so I’ve been sent to repair it.

 

“You have one too?” I exclaimed before I could stop myself.

 

“I am not sure what you are referring to,” Myonar said, looking puzzled.

 

“A stupid brother!” I exclaimed. “Oh, I could tell you a hundred stories about how he ruined Christmas or a birthday or spent too much money and guilted my parents into bailing him out.”

 

Myonar nodded sagely. “And every time, they say ‘oh, don’t take it too personally. He’s still young!’”

 

“RIGHT? YOU DO FEEL MY PAIN!” I exclaimed, not thinking twice as I wrapped my arms around him in solidarity.

 

“You’re...freaking me out again,” he said a bit hesitant, after a moment.

 

I jumped away and apologized.

 

“It’s not far to the hole, but you’ll want to stay close,” Myonar said, “there’s a lot of hungry night creatures out tonight.”

 

As if to illustrate this point, something with a long tail darted out of the woods for a moment before disappearing when Myonar shined a light on it.  The creature had warty skin and very little hair, but that was all I could make of it.

 

With Myonar as a guide, I dragged Buford back the way we had come, which was surprisingly challenging in the dark.  I found myself hanging onto Myonar’s arm, which made him turn a strange shade of blue.  

 

“Are you okay?” I asked.

 

“Never better,” he squeaked back.

 

When we finally found the tear, I could barely tell it was even there.  The pulsing color turned the patch of world on the other side a muted color.

 

“Do I...just walk through it?” I asked, curious.

 

“Well, that’s the basic idea,” Myonar said. “But since you’re here, maybe you can help me close it at the same time.

 

“That sounds dangerous,” I said, wondering what it entailed.

 

“It might be,” he replied. “I’ve only read about this in theoretical books, but I don’t know what else to do.”

 

“Well, if I can help you with your brother problems, maybe I’ll have some luck with dealing with mine in the new year.” I rolled up my sleeves. “Where do I start?”

 

“Well, Myonar said. “First you have to step back into your side of the world.  Then you have to peel up one of the the edges with your fingers and hand it to me so that I can pull it through the hole and I’ll do the same.”

 

It sounded crazy enough that it might just work.

 

First, I tossed Buford through the hole. Don’t worry. He was fine. In fact, he did a happy little doggy dance on the other side and nonchalantly lifted his leg on a bush to pee. Then it was time for me to go through.

 

“Be careful. Don’t hit your head on my universe,” Myonar said, flashing those sharp teeth in a grin.  Oddly enough, I felt a bit endeared to them, now that I knew they weren’t meant for me.  

 

I stepped through gingerly, and only realized after the fact that he’d take my hand to help me through.

 

“Now hand me the corner!” he called out, his voice garbled and strangely quiet through the rip. I looked around for anything that could seem like a corner, but it was hard in the dark and the cold (did I mention it had begun to snow in my universe? Damned stuff).  Finally, my half-frozen fingers caught on something that felt like the ragged edge of a tapestry.  I pulled. A hole in the universe is surprisingly hard to close, especially with one’s raw strength.  But I managed to push the tip of the corner through the hole.

 

“You’re a lifesaver!” I heard, and then a pop! And then the window into another universe was gone altogether.

 

Buford and I made record time  getting home, and it turned out that we’d been gone long enough for my parents to seriously consider going out to search for me despite their respective conditions.  Thankfully, even with Buford curled up and farting contentedly in his sleep in front of the fireplace, I was rather content to rest under a blanket and sip my tea.

 

“Oh?” my mother said, her knowing tone making my ears turn pink.  “Did you meet a cute boy today, by chance?”

 

“Something like that,” I mumbled back, sinking into my blanket and feigning sudden interest in the car auction show that was playing on the television.

 

“Maybe you should bring him home for dinner next time you go on a walk,” my father suggested affably.

 

“That’s impossible...for several reasons I’m not even going to bother explaining,” I said, “besides, I’m here to spend time with you guys.”

 

“And Buford!” my mother crooned, looking affectionately at the dog.

 

“Yeah...I guess so,” I said, and that was that.

 

I suppose that, all things considered, it could be worse.  Like my-brother-went-and-ripped-the-space-time-continuum worse.

 

Oh well. I’ll take what I can get.

 

But that night, I dreamed of lying next to a boy with dark green vines for hair.  His lips tasted like syrup and spring, and though his grin was as sharp as ever, I could tell that he smiled just for me.


End file.
